


Diaries of a Fox

by Militia



Series: Star Wars Fics [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Memory Loss, fox needs a hug, memory manipulation, mental manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Militia/pseuds/Militia
Summary: Commander Fox receives a holo-recorder to use under orders by a medic. He never even considered it might be the only evidence remaining of his life and what he suffered under the employment of Chancellor Sheev Palpatine.
Series: Star Wars Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867885
Comments: 46
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

Entry 01. (27.03.21) (368 days, 24 hrs, 12 months - clone wars began in 22 BBY)  
As per Medic’s instructions I am utilising this diary to track any time losses that occur, officially to inform them of the severity of sleep deprivation, and unofficially to track if it is affecting my work. This morning I lost almost exactly seven minutes of time, from receiving a comm to meet with the chancellor, to roughly two minutes into said meeting. No other discrepencies. -CC-1010.

Entry 02. (03.04.21)  
Another almost seven minutes, again after receiving a comm to meet with the chancellor, same time frame as previous. No other discrepencies. - CC-1010.

Entry 03. (14.04.21)  
Today there were two disturbances. One once again after a comm to meet with the chancellor, same time frame as prior. The second occurred towards the end of the meeting, and continued for a further twenty three minutes. I have checked logs and during this time there does not apparel to be an discrepencies. Whatever occurred and minimal or no affect on my abilities or duties. -CC-1010.

Entry 04.

Entry 05.

Entry 06.

Entry 07 (13.05.21)  
I have lost more time. I do not recall opening the diary for entries 04 through to 06. There are no signs of anything being written down, photographed or recorded. There are no date stamps left either. During the last month, the largest pocket of time that has been forgotten has kept under twenty five minutes. There is no sign of these pockets affecting my work or duties. No other discrepancies recorded. -CC-1010.

Entry 08. (15.05.21)  
I lost almost three hours, beginning with a comm to meet with the chancellor, ending with me in the refresher of my office. I have checked logs, during this time, Commander Thorn was put in charge, and I checked out a DC-17 Hand Blaster and a DC-15A Blaster Rifle. I have no recollection of events between this, and the return of said weapons an hour and forty three minutes later. There is an additional hour unaccounted for. I found blood on my armour, but no injuries on myself. I will keep a close eye on any reports that come in. -CC-1010.

Entry 09.

Entry 10.

Entry 11. (23.07.21)  
The last couple months have been a blur. I can’t be sure if it’s due to a loss of time, or if it’s due to all the work that has been thrown at us. There have been no further incidents of time losses longer than twenty minutes since the last proper update. No reports came in, so I have to assume, based on the timeline, that it was a private matter instigated by a senator or even the chancellor himself. No further discrepancies to report. -CC-1010.

Entry 12. (25.07.21)  
Ten minutes of time lost, a few more than normal, after a comm to report to the Chancellor. No further discrepancies. -CC-1010.

Entry 13.

Entry 14. (22.08.21)  
The date was 20.08.21. I checked when I got my morning coffee. I’ve lost almost two and a half days. The logs put Thorn in command, on my order. There is no accounting for the time I’ve lost. No weapons checked out. Not even security footage. I don’t know what happened during those two days. -CC-1010.

Entry 15. (15.08.21)  
There have been no noticeable discrepancies or time losses. Minor mishaps that have occurred but the evidence points to it being caused by the two day loss. So far they have been contained to misplacing files or forgetting dates. Thankfully even during the discrepancies I put reminders for any meetings I was assigned so I have not fallen behind in my duties. -CC-1010.

Entry 16.

Entry 17.

Entry 18 (Audio Log - 00:00:01)

Entry 19.

Entry 20. (23.03.20)  
I don’t know if I’ll remember writing this. I don’t know if it’ll still be here when I wake up from this. Don’t trust the chancellor. You can’t trust him. Warn somebody. Warn the Jedi.  
Error.  
Entry 20. Delete Y/N  
Y?  
Entry 20. Deleted.

  
Entry 20. (12.04.20)  
Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow or-  
Error  
Entry 20. Delete Y/N  
Y?  
Entry 20. Deleted.

  
Entry 20. (17.04.20)  
More time loss. The logs show that someone has deleted the previous entries on the diary. I should hand it in. Should give it to the medics, Thorn, Thire…. someone. How can I be expected to keep my men, and the senate safe, when I’m losing time like this. -CC-101—  
Error.  
Entry 20. Delete Y/N  
Y?  
Entry 20. Deleted.

Entry 20. (17.04.20)  
The time loss is manageable. My duties and work are not suffering for it. I simply have to find a way to account for lost time. -CC-1010.

Entry 21.

Entry 22.

Entry 23. (20.06.20)  
I’m starting to wonder how many of the empty entries in this, are simply from me opening it and not writing anything, and how many could be from deleted entries with better covered tracks. -CC-1010

Entry 24. (18.09.20)  
The last few months have been uneventful in Coruscant. Any time losses that could have occurred have been unnoticeable, if they have even happened. -CC-1010.

Entry 25. (20.09.20)  
I have read through the full report of what occurred on Umbara. Most of it is reading as familiar, but I do not recall having read through it before now. How much time am I losing, in the daily rush of reports and forms. How am I supposed to keep track or even try go digging to account for what I might have done, find what forms I might have filled, find what brothers I might have affected during these lapses in time. -CC-1010.

Entry 26.

Entry 27.

Entry 28. (01.12.20)  
Surely the war has to end soon. -CC-1010.

Entry 29.

Entry 30.

Entry 31. (Audio Log - 00:00:05) …… Hel-

Entry 32. (Audio Log - 00:00:10) … It was set to stun……-

Entry 33. (07.07.19)  
I don’t know what I’ve done. I don’t know most of my own men. Even the ones I do know seem afraid fo me. Or angry. Or disappointed. I don’t know how much time I’ve lost this time around. -CC-1010

Entry 34. (Audio Log - 00:01:21) …………… I don’t know what’s happening anymore………-

Entry 35. (Video Log - 00:02:07)  
[Fox sat in front of the holo-recorder, frowning down at a piece of flimsi in his hands.]  
What did you do Fives?  
[His eyes flickered across the page, piecing together the evidence, brow drawing together as the tension in his face and in his body rose]  
No, no nonono  
[His face fell, lines sharpening on his forehead]  
Why-  
[He flipped the flimsi, to the section filled out by the commanding officer, and his face smoothed out in an instant, showing no emotion, eyes focussed on one part of the page]  
…  
[His face screwed up, and he slammed the flimsi down on the desk beside him, breathing heavily. A few seconds, and he picked up the chair behind him and pegged it across the room where it clattered noisily off the wall and floor]  
I killed him.  
[Head shaking, Fox stalked back and forwards, a few steps, turn, repeat, over and over, breathing coming harsher and harsher. Then he stopped, one hand coming up to knock on his desk sharply, head tilting back as he forced himself to breath in slowly and deeply.]  
I, Killed him.  
[He shook his head violently]  
No nononono, I wouldn’t, why-why would I kill him, why would I shoot him.  
[He turned back to the holorecorder, crossing over to reach for the controls, the last sight before it shuts off is of his tear stained face, distraught and horrified expression ripping at the mask]

Entry 36.

Entry 37.

Error  
Entry 35. Delete Y/N  
Y?  
.  
.  
.  
N?  
Entry Saved.

Error  
Entry 35. Delete Y/N  
Y?  
.  
.  
.  
N?  
.  
.  
.  
Y?  
.  
.  
.  
N?  
Entry Saved.

Entry 38. (14.07.19)  
It’s the Chancellor. It’s all the Chancellor. It’s all been the Chancellor. I need to warn the Jedi. I need to warn Somebo-  
Error  
Entry 38. Delete Y/N  
Y?  
Entry Deleted

Entry 38. (Audio Log - 00:00:47) The Chancellor is behind the war. Is behind all of it……. I shot Fives on his command, officially it was supposed to be capture, but on his command I- shot him. Not stun.  
I guess now I know why they call me vod killer. Why Rex refuses to answer his comm.  
I don’t think there’s a way to win this war…….-

Entry 39.

Entry 40. (09.11.19)  
Order 66 has successfully seen the rise of the Empire. The Jedi have failed in their coup. This is Commander Fox signing off. -CC-1010

  
—

Rex approached the scene carefully, glad that he knew Wolffe was watching his back.

The Rebellion had gotten a tip about a Clone Commander in the area. It was their best chance of finding a way to get intel on the Empire. They just had to find the lost brother first.

It was a small building, lucky if there was even two room and a refresher in there. Grip tightening on his gun, Rex slowly crept toward the door, and with a jolt of surprise, and a heavy feeling of dread trickling like ice down his spine, the door smoothly swung open.

His blaster was up immediately, checking every nook and cranny of the environment of the first room.   
Only two doors, looks like he was right about the size.

As quietly as he could, he approached the door on his left, and in one sharp movement swung it open and darted forward, blaster covering every direction as he went.  
No sings of life.

Taking a deep breath, the former captain retreated from the room, and cautiously approached the last door.

Another deep breath, and he flung it open, blaster up and trained- on nothing.

Huffing, a snarl making its way onto his face, he reached up to his ear piece.  
“No one here Wolffe.”  
He could hear his quiet swearing on the other end. They were both getting sick of numerous dead ends.  
Until something by the sink caught his eye. A holo-recorder. It looked like ones given to Clone Commanders during the war, usually by medics.

Curious, Rex grabbed it, and watched it light up in his hands. He scrolled back through the logs, to find the earliest one was during the middle of the clone wars.  
He pocketed it, determined to go through it later, and made his way back out to Wolffe after a quick check told him all he needed to know. The holo-recorder was the only piece of evidence left behind by whoever had stayed here.


	2. Chapter 2

The recorder was forgotten about in the move, not a necessity compared to weapons and supplies. Honestly, Rex was surprised it had even managed to stay with them for this long. He barely remembered picking it up, the last few months too much of a blur, move after move occurring too quickly, always on the run lest they get caught, to really remember it was even there, let alone bother taking the time to open it and take a look through it’s contents.

Whatever resistance and rebellion there was, they hadn’t had much luck getting back into contact with them. Rather than risk heading back to a base, in case it had been found out, he and Wolffe took to moving.  
Eventually they caught back up with Gregor, and the three made quick work of disappearing once again, gone without a trace that any Empire could possibly track.

So it was odd, he thought, that the device would catch his attention now, after all that time.

It was dark, and in reality he should have been sleeping, but instead here he was, staring at nothing, until his eyes focussed long enough for him to realise he’d been staring at the dam holo-recorder barely peeking out of an open pocket on one of their bags.

He really should be trying to sleep.

With a heavy sigh, he rocked back, head thudding lightly against the wall behind him, before he tilted forward, swinging his legs off to the side of his cot, and walked forward to snatch the recorder up.  
May as well see what they were working with while he had the time, he already knew he wasn’t getting back to sleep.

A rustle beside him let him know that Wolffe wasn’t asleep either, so whatever the contents were, there were about to be two witnesses. Gregor could have a look through or they’d fill him in after his watch was done.

He sat down on Wolffe’s bed, not bothering to return to his own when this would just make it easier for them both to see what was on the thing.

It lit up, and with a press, revealed short entries.

“Medical,” Wolffe’s low voice, rough and hoarse with exhaustion, grumbled out from beside him.

Now that it had been pointed out, Rex could see the small sign at the top, above the list of entries, the small symbol that had been used by the medics of the GAR. Whoever had owned this, it had likely been for personal use then, a requirement that they’d gotten used to using if the sheer volume of entries was any indication.

He noticed the date of the first, and recalled his first reaction to the recorder, how that had been the first thing he’d noticed then too. Whoever had owned it, had been there for at least most, if not the entirety of the clone wars.  
He wondered how long they’d survived after it, if they’d survived.

He opened the first entry, and flicked through, smiling for a second. Yeah, medical alright. Sounded like the brother had the same case of sleep deprivation they’d all had.

Then his eyes caught on the number, the designation at the end, and he felt the smile twist into something ugly. The light shut off quickly, and he tried to force himself to breathe deeply, and slowly.

Vod Killer.

He had the dema’golka’s bloody recorder.  
He threw it down on the bed between them, and stood up, going to sit over on his own cot, unwilling to look through the rest of the contents. He had no interest in hearing Commander Fox’s personal entries.

With a scowl he laid back down, pretending, as he glared up at the ceiling, that he couldn’t see the light flickering around the room, telling him that Wolffe was still quietly reading through the entries.

A small hiss drew his attention, eyes sliding toward the dimly lit face of his brother, before he shook his head fiercely, settling back into a deep scowl with grit teeth. He would not be pulled into reading what that hu’tuun had to say.

A flash of noise, barely a buzz, broke the deathly quiet of the room.

Shifting from across the gap between the two cots that Rex resolutely ignored. Tapping away at the device he pretended he couldn’t hear.

“What, are you doing?” He hissed violently, eyes finally whipping around to settle their ire on the deep frown etched onto Wolffe’s face.  
“Someone deleted entries.”  
“So?”

He barely paused, eyes flicking up to glare at his own for barely a second before they were focussed back down at the recorder.  
“Personal diary, personal medically-required, diary, and entries were deleted. I’m trying to figure out if they’re still on here.”

With a huff, Rex turned back to glare up at the ceiling, pretending he could see all the cracks and chips in the dark that he’d been able to see the previous morning.

A small hum had his grit teeth grinding together painfully.

The light continued to barely flicker. Wolffe had either found what he was looking for, or had moved on.

Another burst of static, and Rex flinched at Fox’s voice, “Hel-“ quickly cut off, but whether by Wolffe or by the end of the recording itself he couldn’t say.

Another burst, this one lasting a solid five or so seconds before, “It was set to stun.”

Rex burst forward, and with a snarl slammed into Wolffe, attempting to wrench the device from his hands so he could throw it at the wall, stomp on it, hell even shoot it he didn’t care he just wanted it gone.  
“Stop, Rex, Stop!”  
The powerful command, along with a fist to the chest had him pushed back, bent over, hand clothing the throbbing area he was sure would now bruise.

He didn’t realise he was crying until the first tear fell off his nose, falling onto the bare skin of his hand.  
“Turn that off,” he demanded, wiping the tears away roughly with the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing.

Wolffe eyed him for a moment, apparently gauging if he’d be attacked again, before slowly tapping through the recorder again.  
“I said Turn it Off!”  
Before he could lunge forward again, Wolffe turned to glare, full heat, at him.  
“No,” he grit out.

Still shaky and emotional, Rex was the first to look away, after what felt like a small eternity. He almost wanted to leave the room, wanted to go and run and keep running, as if he could out run the shadows and demons in his head.

More flickering, and another burst of static.  
Rex grit his teeth in preparation for the incoming voice. But it didn’t come. Almost twenty seconds in, and nothing.  
At forty seconds, with still no sound, he turned to glare at the recorder. If he was going to talk, why couldn’t he just hurry up and spit it out already.

Over a minute passed before a crack was heard. “I-“  
And for the first time Rex heard his brother’s voice crack, like it hadn’t since Kamino.

Crack, through a recording.  
“I don’t know what’s happening anymore…”  
The static cut quickly after that.

All Rex could wonder, is how someone like Fox, could possibly sound so broken, words a quiet, choked whisper.

Then an image flickered to life, settling above the recorder. Fox, frowning down at a piece of flimsi.  
Rex wasn’t sure how he’d never noticed how exhausted the man looked, and wondered how long it had been before the end of the war, that he’d last seen Fox’s face.

“It’s over two minutes long.”  
Rex had to blink a couple times to completely register that it was Wolffe who’d spoken. He glanced back down, looking hard at the flimsi. Lips twisting, he thought he recognised it as Fives… “Incident Report”, that had been made after he’d been shot.

By Fox.

He glared at the image of the man, before wrenching his eyes up to meet Wolffe’s.  
“Play it.”  
He wanted to know exactly what kind of man got off on reading the report of the brother he’d killed.  
He wanted to know exactly what kind of man to hate.

“What’d you do Fives?”  
The question was so quiet, he might not have heard it if the room hadn’t been so silent.

Rex felt his chest seize, dread pooling, a pressure building in his temple, throbbing as if he could feel the chip that was no longer there.

“No, no nonono.”

As he watched Fox’s reading seem to get that slightly more frantic, he felt his own brows draw together in confusion. This…. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this reaction.

“Why-“Fox almost seemed to rip the flimsi in his haste to flip it, to read the side filled out by the commander- filled out by himself in this case, and Rex didn’t understand what exactly he was seeing.  
This was a private recorder, no one else should have seen this.

So why was Fox acting like this?

The slam, hollow and tinny as it was through the recording, still startled a minor jump out of him. He watched as Commander Fox, the man who nothing ever rattled, shook his head like a wild Rancor, breathing harshly, before snapping into action, and pelting his chair across the room, and out of the recorder’s range.  
What was happening?

It clanged harshly several times as it fell, and he watched as Fox dragged his hands through his hair, shaking his head.  
“I killed him.”  
His voice edged on hysteria, as he started to pace back and forth. Gone was the man who could stare down the Hero Without Fear without falter.

He stopped almost as suddenly as he’d started to move, fist rapping sharply against his desk.  
“I killed him.

Movement erupted violently all over again as he shook his head desperately, muttering quietly to himself.  
His voice took on a whisper quality, hoarse and high pitched with hysterics and mania.  
“No nononono, I wouldn’t, why- why would I kill him, why would I shoot him.”

He shot back toward the recorder, the speed startling Rex once again, and the last image he saw before the recording ended, was Fox’s distraught face, and what looked like tear tracks falling down his cheeks.

The recording winked out, back to the entries, and Rex could only stare. What did he just watch? What did that even mean?

He was vaguely aware of Wolffe scrolling, pulling up an entry that flashed red. He supposed it must have been a deleted one.

Then going to the next, and this time Fox’s voice filled the air almost as soon as it began, in a rush of words, almost tripping over themselves as if he was forcing himself to talk as quickly as possible, as if he was worried about forgetting what he wanted to get out before it left his mouth.  
“The Chancellor is behind the war.”  
He felt Wolffe jolt at much the same time he did. What? What the hell was Fox caught up in?  
Had, been caught up in.  
“Is behind all of it…. I shot Fives on his command,” Rex looked away, fists clenching, face twisting into a grimace.  
“Officially it was supposed to be capture,” Rex couldn’t help his internal scoff.  
“But on his common I- shot him. Not stun.”

He pushed off the bed, beginning to pace, unwilling to leave before Fox was done, but needing to do something before he tried to rip the thing out of Wolffe’s hands again and try break it.  
“I guess now I know why they call me vod killer. Why Rex refuses to answer his comm.”

Rex could only feel his anger rising. What, did he just conveniently forget shooting a brother?

“I don’t think there’s a way to win this war….”

When the recording cut out, the silence was broken by Rex’s harsh breathing, before he choked out a laugh, broken in the middle by a sob.  
A hand came up to pull at his face before he lifted both arms to rest on top of his head.

Wolffe spoke quietly, reading the next entry out loud.  
“Order 66 has successfully seen the rise of the Empire. The Jedi have failed in their coup. This is Commander Fox signing off.”

Rex shook his head, confused, and wishing Fox was inf ront of him just so he could pummel him not the ground.

Wolffe broke the quiet.  
“I don’t think he was okay-“  
“You think?” Rex broke in, voice edging the line of hysterical.

Wolffe turned a glare on him, demanding he shut up and let him talk.  
“He was losing time, it’s why he was given the diary-“  
Rex scoffed, turning away to continue his pacing. Wolffe kept talking anyway.

“Rex, I don’t think Tup was the only clone who’s chip came into play before Order 66.”

He finally stilled, forcing himself to sit back onto his cot, hands fisting in the sheets as he glared holes into the floor.  
“He lost time, most of them seemed to be right when he was commed to meet with the Chancellor-“  
“Who was the one who could activate the chips.”

Another glare, and Rex forced himself to breathe. Being snippy, and cutting Wolffe off, would only aggravate his brother, not help him feel better.

The recorder was thrown on the cot beside him.  
“I managed to pull up all the deleted entries too. Read them Rex. Because I don’t think Fox was the villain we’ve all believed him to be.”

Then he pushed himself up, walking toward the door.  
“Where are you going?”

Wolffe paused before opening the door.  
“We’re not the only ones who deserve to know the truth about all of our brothers.”

Left alone in the room, at least until Gregor came back after Wolffe would tell him to, Rex stared at the recorder beside him.  
He took a deep breath, before finally reaching forward to pick it up, flicking back to the first entry.

Guess he would be reading Fox’s private entries after all.


End file.
